His Wife.

No, it is milk. You must bite your bread more carefully, or you will choke.

The Man.

No, no, I shall not. Let me have some more of the crust—of that nice brown crust.

His Wife.

But I am sure you will choke before you have finished.

The Man.

No, no. See how easily I swallow.

His Wife.

You are making the milk run down my neck! How dreadfully it tickles!